


TV Static Snow

by BlotOutMyName



Series: The New Intern [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Almost Hooking Up, Cliffhanger, F/M, First Fight, Graphic Violence, Harley and Carl are so cute, Murder, Reconciling, S2:E15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlotOutMyName/pseuds/BlotOutMyName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley and Carl have a fight, and then Edward Nygma pays a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	TV Static Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm quite broken up over Carl's murder, and I feel like he could've been a much deeper and more complex character. So I wrote a little more meaning into his murder, just to make it sadder I guess. 
> 
> Enjoy?

          “I missed you,” Carl sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around her.

          Harley smiled to herself, feeling his comforting heartbeat under her cheek. She would never tire of it. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I hit you.”

          “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to,” Carl said, flipping the channels on the fuzzy TV screen. Carl’s apartment was a little cheaper and dingier than hers, it’s bare gray walls only decorated with awkwardly hung posters of cars.

          “I don’t know how you watch basketball on that TV,” She laughed. “Every channel is so full of static.”

          “Oh, you get used to it.” He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “I just pretend that it’s always snowing in my TV.”

          Their laughter died after a moment, and the only sounds that filled the silence was the broken, interrupted sounds of the basketball game on the screen. She looked up at him, and noticed that he was gnawing on his bottom lip. He was agitated.

          “Something bothering you?”

          Carl paused. “Who’s Edward?”

          Harley sat up. “’Who’s Edward?’”

          “You- You were crying his name when you were having the nightmare. When you punched me.”

          The horrible dream flooded back into Harley’s mind. “And you thought I was-“

          Carl’s brow furrowed. “You were saying some other guy’s name in your sleep, what am I supposed to think? Who is he?”

          Harley sighed. “You know about the Dollmaker? You’ve heard enough about that from the precinct?”

          “Harley, I swear, if you’re trying to change the subject-“

          “I’m not!” She moved away from him, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “I just have nightmares about it. The man, the Dollmaker, told me he was going to cut my eyes out.

          “I still have nightmares that he and other people cut the eyes out of the people I love-“

          “Harley, for the love of God! This has nothing to do with whoever this Edward guy is!”

          She stood and turned away so that he couldn’t see the hot tears in her eyes. “Edward Nygma.”

          “Nygma? The forensic director? Jesus, what the hell are you two-“

          “He was killing you!”

          The was a heavy moment of silence, and Harley began to cry, the images of Carl’s face flashing back before her eyes. A rag stuffed into his mouth to muffle his screams, empty sockets streaming blood down his cheeks.

          She heard him stand behind her. “What?”

          “I dreamt he was cutting your eyes out. He was murdering you because- I was completely helpless, and I was losing you and I don’t want to go back to that moment. I know it never actually happened, and I know I sound crazy, but I can’t explain the fear at the sight of watching him murder you.” She was sobbing in earnest now. “I couldn’t- I- I-“

          Strong arms enveloped her. “I’m… I’m so sorry. Harley. I had no idea it was that bad.”

          “I’ve lost so much. Please, I can’t lose you too.”

          He held her tighter, one hand stroking her hair. “I’m so sorry, Harley. I’ve been so awful to you.”

          “Please don’t leave me. Please, don’t. Please,” She sobbed into his chest.

          “I won’t.” He held her until she stopped crying, and wiped her tears away. His brown eyes looked down at her. He kissed her chastely. “I love you, Harley.”

          Her reply found no hesitation. “I love you, too.” And she meant it.

          The next kiss was deeper, and led them back to the couch. She climbed into his lap, and his hands found her waist, pushing her shirt up slightly. His fingers danced up her stomach, and the kiss stopped abruptly.

          She looked down at him, slightly breathless. “Are we going to-“

          “If you want to,” Carl whispered.

          She smiled and closed her eyes. “I want to.”

          Harley didn’t know it was possible for someone to kiss and grin at the same time, but Carl managed to, and his eagerness made her laugh to herself. He helped her tug his gray GCPD t-shirt off and over his head, and she quickly tossed it over the edge of the couch. She ran her hands over his chest, her fingertips raising goose bumps along his skin.

          He pulled his lips away from hers, his fingers tracing her face. “I love you so much.”

          There was a knock at the door, three quick and precise raps against the wood. Carl looked confused. “I’m not expecting anyone.” Three more knocks echoed into the bare apartment. Harley stood and he followed her, taking her arm. “Hide in the closet.”

          “Carl, it’s probably just someone selling something-“

          His gaze was serious. “It’s almost midnight. This is Gotham. It may be drug addict looking for an apartment to rob. It may be one of my neighbors needing help with a stopped-up drain.” Three more knocks. He squeezed her arm gently. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

          Harley pursed her lips.

          “Please, Harley. Please hide when I get the door.” She sighed, sitting down on the dusty floor of the nearly empty closet, and pulled the door almost closed, leaving a crack wide enough to see the front door. She watched him pick his shirt up off the floor and put it on again. He looked over to her. “Thank you,” He mouthed.

          She watched the door open and Edward stepped in, wearing a hat and a long overcoat. _What is Edward doing here?_ “Can I talk to you, Officer Pinkney?”

          Carl’s shoulders stiffened. “Yeah, but make it quick. The ball game’s on.” He turned back into the apartment and Edward followed. “What’s this about?”

          “Officer Gordon will explain, he’s right behind me.”

          “Um, okay.”

          Something moved next to Nygma, and Harley watched a crowbar slide out of his coat sleeve, grasped by his gloved hand. Cold horror crawled into Harley’s throat.

          “Hey, Pinkney, what do you call a tavern of crows?”

          _Don’t scream. He’ll kill you too._ Harley’s hands clamped over her mouth. This wasn’t real. This was a dream. She was dreaming. She had to be.

          A dull thud. Carl cried out, a short, strangled sound. _Don’t scream. Don’t scream._ He fell, only his feet in view. _Don’t scream._ The only sound was the static from the TV, still broadcasting the game.

          “A crowbar!” Another swing of the bloodied crowbar. Harley bit her hand to keep from sobbing, tears streaming down her face. _Don’t scream. Don’t scream._ “Yeah, it’s not that good. Just came up with it on the fly.”

          Edward straightened, and sighed. “Thanks for your help, Officer Pinkney, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

          A sob escaped her throat.

          Edward’s head swiveled toward the closet door, one eyebrow arched. He stepped toward it, pulling it open with the crowbar. He looked down at her in utter confusion, trying to puzzle out why she was there. There were droplets of blood on his face. “Harley?” He looked back to Carl’s battered body. “You and Pinkney, huh?” Edward shrugged. “It’s a crying shame. I liked him. He was nice to me. Respected me.” He looked down at her, observed her crying helplessly on the floor, and sighed. “Ah, well, two birds with one stone, I suppose.”

          His gloved hand darted out, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and dragged her out into the living room. She heard the whistle of the crowbar moving through the air, moving toward her, and then everything fell into a dense, heavy static.

          She didn’t even have time to scream.

         

**Author's Note:**

> Edward is basically a murdering cockblock. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
